THE NATION

Loft apartments doubling as illegal nightclubs

April 02, 2006|By Melena Ryzik, New York Times News Service

NEW YORK — At midnight one recent Friday, dozens of people lined up in one of Brooklyn's bleakest warehouse districts, waiting to enter a rock show. Tickets had been sold at a Greenpoint record store, but the show's address was only revealed to buyers at the last minute by e-mail.

A ticket taker stamped the hands of nearly 500 fans who eventually jammed into a room to drink beer and hear the Black Dice, local favorites. The band's dressing room was a bit odd: There was a bed in it. The bathroom for the audience had somebody's used toothbrush and a package of Q-tips. A big mural in the hall read, "Home Sweet Home."

This was no rock club. This was someone's home.

The loft, shared by several art school graduates in a desolate part of Bushwick, is transformed every other month into an underground club, the High Five. "I've always been pretty obsessed with underground music," said Peter Buxton, 24, one of the roommates. "In the back of my head I was thinking it would be cool to do shows. And as soon we spotted this loft, we thought it would be a crime not to do something."

Buxton and his roommates, who make enough money from their bimonthly shows to cover the $2,800 rent for their loft, have plenty of company around the city.

From former industrial lofts in Brooklyn and Queens to stylish pads in Manhattan's meatpacking district, living quarters are being used as cash-producing spaces for under-the-radar parties.

Given the high costs and stringent laws governing licensed night spots -- from no-smoking ordinances to laws regulating closing hours, alcohol sales and dancing -- underground parties, where guests can smoke, boogie and drink as long as they like, seem to have an increasing appeal, in no small part because they are illicit.

"It feels super-sneaky," said Solana Larson, 26, a Brooklynite who went to a party in an apartment in the meatpacking district. "I brought some friends, and they were like, `Wow, this is so underground.' You can't help but feel like it's kind of a select crowd."

Organizers employ various tactics to avoid attracting police attention, including checking guests' identification to make sure they are 21 and asking them to sign a release form. Shadi Shahrokhi, a host of parties in his loft in the meatpacking district, puts his neighbors in the expensive Maritime hotel for the night to avoid having them file noise complaints with authorities.

Nonetheless most of the parties are in violation of the law, the police say. "With those parties comes noise, comes crowding," said Detective Brian Sessa, a New York Police Department spokesman. "It's a building-code violation. If you charge overhead or charge for drinks, you need a liquor license. Basically they are illegal on multiple levels."

To avoid leaving a paper trail, almost none of the loft-party organizers print fliers. Some declined to speak in detail for this article for fear of exposure. Secrecy, they said, is both their best defense and their biggest draw.

Advertised through online Listservs, Web sites like MySpace.com and word of mouth, the house parties are open to anyone who unearths the secret address and is willing to pay the $5 to $15 cover charges.

They include rock shows, performance art and DJ-fueled discos.

Even though part of their appeal is the do-it-yourself vibe -- kitchens that serve as bars, bedrooms that double as VIP areas -- some are increasingly mimicking professional spaces.

"It's really just a labor of love, plus pocket change," said Arvin Ajamian, an audio producer who, with the help of some partners, turned his unassuming four-bedroom Williamsburg house into a club called Brooklyn Tuning, complete with disco ball, lights and professional sound system. Ajamian, 27, charges a $10 cover and offers an open bar. Though as many as 300 people have come for his monthly parties, he says he only makes enough to recoup expenses and maybe pay for dinner and a few drinks.

Shahrokhi, 38, an architect, agrees. He regularly spends about $2,500 on Buyrum, a party that he and a few DJs play host to every few months in his loft in the meatpacking district. "We do it as a cultural event," he said. "It's not about me making 200 bucks, because obviously doing architecture is a lot less work and a lot more profit."

At the High Five in Bushwick the headlining band can make as much as $1,000 a performance. At other parties DJs are flown in and paid several hundred dollars for a gig. Bartenders also rake in the money; they get bigger tips because the drinks are cheaper than at real clubs.

"This is a much more relaxed atmosphere," said Dave, a patron at the Black Dice show in Bushwick. He declined to give his full name because, he said, he works for the government. He described his age as "grown-up," which in that crowd meant older than 35. "Clubs are so restrictive," he said. "If you've been to the Bowery Ballroom, all the bouncers are scowling. Here it's like being in someone's living room, because you are."